


Connie Maheswaran: Private Eye

by goodyfresh



Series: Detective Noir Human AU [1]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Noir, And Steven is her charmingly naive himbo of a client, Bisexual Character, Connie is a hard-boiled detective, Conspiracy, Detective Noir, Detectives, F/M, Film Noir, Human Gems (Steven Universe), Mystery, Pansexual Character, Rose Quartz is Not Pink Diamond, Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28356522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodyfresh/pseuds/goodyfresh
Summary: Connie Maheswaran is a jaded, cynical, hard-boiled detective in a harsh and dreary world. Her new client Steven Universe, on the other hand, is like a ray of sunshine beaming through the clouds. While they know that the case he's brought to her is a huge one, neither of them realizes just how much this fateful encounter will change their lives forever.
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe
Series: Detective Noir Human AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2117001
Comments: 17
Kudos: 26





	Connie Maheswaran: Private Eye

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DSDUKE](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DSDUKE/gifts).



> This is for a gift-exchange on a Discord server I'm in! I hope you all enjoy it, especially you Duke! For now it's an open-ended two-shot, but I _**might**_ expand it into a big multi-chapter thingy someday as I actually have a lot of ideas for this AU!

It's a dreary, cold, and overcast late-November day in New York City when Steven Universe walks up to the locked door of a small, run-down, nondescript-looking old brick office building. This isn't exactly the best part of town, but it isn't the worst either. The door is locked, with a panel next to the door containing a speaker and labeled buttons. He finds the one he's looking for, labeled "C. Maheswaran: Private Investigator," and presses it.

He hears a buzzing noise, and a few seconds later a voice comes through the intercom: "Who is it, is this my 2:30?" He answers, "yeah, this is Steven Universe," and the voice responds, "alright, my office is number 207."

Steven hears the door unlock and he enters. The foyer is inconsistently lit; about a quarter of the overhead lights are burnt out, and a few more flicker inconsistently. He walks past a few offices until he locates a staircase up to the second floor. He finds his way to office 207; he notices a CCTV camera point at him from above the doorway as he knocks. The door feels sturdier than most.

A moment later, the door unlocks and swings open; standing in the doorway is _the most attractive person Steven has ever seen in his life_ , at least in his opinion. The 27-year-old already knew that Detective Maheswaran is unusually young for a private eye, a 26-year-old former FBI Agent who quit the Agency. But he expected her to be as cold as December mornings; no one warned him that she looks like she'd be like a hot coal to the touch, a striking dame who could hit a few home runs from his heart.

She stands slightly over five-foot-six, wearing a light grey fedora with a black band, a darker gray trench coat, a white button-down shirt with a black tie, khaki pants, and black leather lace-up shoes. But even with that getup, Steven can tell that she has a hell of a body, and her face is the most strikingly gorgeous he's ever laid eyes on.

Connie, for her part, doesn't miss how he stands there and blanks out as he checks her out; she doesn't really mind, as she's used to such attention from many men and women. Besides, she thinks, Steven himself is quite a sight for sore eyes:

Standing at over five-foot-eleven, he's got very broad shoulders and thick arms, with a slightly heavyset build that looks like he probably lifts very heavy weights at the gym solely for the sake of strength rather than to gain a six-pack. While she's not typically fond of bright colors, she thinks he looks quite sharp in a pink polo shirt, a black jacket with pink trimmings, dark blue jeans, and pink Converses.

She thinks that the outfit suits him quite well given that he has the face of someone who hasn't yet turned jaded from the harsh realities of this world. _"That'll change soon enough,"_ she thinks cynically, _"if he's here for the reason I think he is. It's a strikingly handsome face, but strikingly innocent as well."_

Unlike Steven, Connie easily maintains her composure; after the things she's seen in her line of work, it'll take a lot more than one of the most handsome men she's ever seen in order to faze her. Besides, she has a strict policy of never getting involved with clients. She clears her throat and speaks:

"Well, I know I'm not exactly what you expected, but maybe you could quit standing there gawking and introduce yourself?" She raises her eyebrows and shoots him an amused look as she says this, and Steven suddenly snaps back to reality and lets out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. _"Oh jeez, did I really just do that,"_ he thinks as he blushes, _"that's SO embarrassing, ugh. At least she's not calling me a pig or anything, so maybe she didn't realize I was checking her out? I hope so..."_

"Oh, um, ha ha, yeah, sorry about that," he says. He gets a hold of his nerves and _smiles;_ for just a moment, Connie reconsiders her policy about getting involved with clients, and she nearly bites her lip. Steven's smile is as brilliant and glorious as the light of dawn breaking over a snowy mountain range, lighting up Connie's typically gray and dreary world with a brilliant pearly white, the stormclouds within her mind momentarily parted by a beam of sunlight.

 _"Goddamn,"_ Connie thinks as her heart betrays her by unwittingly speeding up, _"a smile like that could almost restore my faith in humanity."_ Nevertheless, she continues to maintain her deadpan outward demeanor.

The moment quickly passes as Steven holds out his right hand. "Hi," he says, "Steven Universe, but you already know that. It's nice to meet you." Connie extends her hand and firmly takes hold of his to shake it; both of them feel shivers run up and down their spines as primal attraction surges through them at the contact; Steven lightly blushes and gets goosebumps, while Connie willfully ignores the feeling as she releases his hand.

"Hello," she says, "Connie Maheswaran, but you already knew that too. Come on in and we can discuss whatever case you weren't willing to talk about over the phone." She steps aside, and he enters the office as she closes and locks the door behind him. He immediately notices the lingering odor of tobacco smoke.

It's chilly in the office since Connie likes to keep the heat turned down to conserve energy, so Steven doesn't take off his jacket as he takes a seat in one of the two leather-upholstered in front of Connie's desk. Connie likewise takes a seat in the chair behind the desk.

The office is dimly lit; there are windows in the left corner behind Connie's desk, and the plastic slats hanging over the window are angled downwards to let in the dreary gray light from outside while blocking any view of the office from the street. Steven briefly thinks that this may be for the same reason why the door seemed so sturdy and unusually heavy, but quickly decides it's best if he _doesn't_ think about that.

On Connie's desk Steven sees a rugged toughbook-type business laptop (it appears to be a very powerful high-end model), a desk lamp with a green lampshade, a landline phone, a few folders with files in them, a stapler, a notepad, a container of pens and pencils, an ashtray full of cigarette butts, and a small fan on the back left corner of the desk.

In the right corner behind the desk there's a small table with a combined printer/scanner/fax-machine, and on the wall above it there are maps of New York and of the United States with pushpins stuck into various locations. Along the walls of the office there are filing cabinets and various bookshelves filled with books (Steven notices to his surprise that there are a lot of sci-fi and fantasy books; maybe Detective Maheswaran is a bit of a geek?), as well as a small cabinet against the left wall; on top of the cabinet is a large and detailed globe. Next to the cabinet is a large water-dispenser. There are no decorative items to speak of; the overall setup is extremely organized and pragmatic, but not the least bit warm, inviting, or concerned with aesthetics. The air smells strongly of cigarettes. Steven inadvertently shivers a bit.

Regardless of her disarmingly stunning appearance, Detective Maheswaran turns out to be at least as cold and deadpan as Steven initially expected; she demonstrates this with the first words out of her mouth when he stops looking around the office and makes eye-contact with her: "So, you're the son of Rose Quartz, huh? Maybe it's a bit presumptuous of me, but am I correct in assuming that's why you're here?"

Those words hit Steven like a bucket of ice water to the face, and his expression ever-so-briefly takes on a darker cast before he shakes off the funk and replies: "I, well... yeah, I'm Rose Quartz's son. I guess you looked into me after I made this appointment, huh?"

Connie leans forward slightly and steeples her hands on the desk in front of her as she replies: "Yes, I always look into my clients. In your case, it wasn't exactly difficult; 'Universe' is far from the most common name, and your father is _quite_ the famous musician and record producer. Aside from that, you greatly resemble your mother, which brings us back to my second question which you didn't answer yet."

Steven realizes that Detective Maheswaran is someone who cuts _straight_ to the point; she's one hell of an _intimidating_ dame, as cold and sharp as a straight razor. Steven finds that attractive, but can't for the life of him understand _why;_ he normally takes better to people, especially ones he's attracted to, who are warm and friendly rather than cold and pragmatic.

But something about Detective Maheswaran appeals to him; Steven is a people person who's always had a keen intuition for others' emotions, and he can't shake the feeling that Connie wasn't always this way and that there's something more hidden beneath her hardened exterior. The numerous fantasy and science-fiction books on her shelves certainly seem to hint at a more whimsical nature than she lets on.

As a detective, he gets a different feeling from her than any of the others he's been to so far; maybe she'll be different, maybe she'll _actually listen_ to his and his father's concerns and not just dismiss them like all the others have. After all, she seems to already realize why he's here, and yet she hasn't thrown him out the door yet. He decides to go out on a limb and answer completely honestly:

"Yeah, I'm here about... my mom's case, the Pink Diamond case. The FBI says the case is closed, so every detective I've ever gone to about it hasn't wanted to touch it. But my dad and I, we _know_ that the FBI is wrong, that there's _no way_ she did what they say she did! We figure that somebody must've framed her, but we've got no idea _why_ anybody would've done that, and nobody's ever taken us seriously about it except for wacky conspiracy theorists."

"All my dad and I want is the truth. Money is no object; you know who my dad is. I know that you're some kind of prodigy superstar detective who quit the FBI and that in less than two years you've gotten a rep for being a detective who goes against the grain. I'm hoping that maybe you'll take this case that all those older detectives won't."

Once it's clear that he's finished, Connie replies, and her response absolutely blows him away in more ways than one. On the one hand, her response is in many ways better than he ever expected at this point; on the other hand, her response is as distressingly blunt as a baseball bat to the head and includes a seemingly idiotic question that he never would have expected in a million years:

"The FBI is full of shit, Universe, and nonsense like how they handled your mother's case is precisely why I quit working for them. Yeah, I'll take the case, and I won't charge more than my usual rate; in all honesty, I've already looked into the case to some extent on my own during my free time since it's so fascinating. I'll get straight to the point: There's no fucking way that your mother was really the person who assassinated Senator Pink Diamond." Steven's jaw drops, but Connie continues to soldier on: "Tell me, Universe, what did your mother do for a living?"

Steven is taken aback by this seemingly random question with such an obvious answer, but collects himself and respond: "What my mom did? She worked in sales for a company that makes paper, you know? A totally boring, normal job compared to what my dad does... that's why it's so crazy that they say she went crazy and assassinated a politician, my mom was just a normal person! Why would you even bother asking that?"

To his shock, Connie lets out a short snorting laugh in response before crassly saying: "Just a normal person, huh? So just as I thought, you and your father really have no idea, do you?" Steven numbly replies, "W-what are you talking about? No idea about what?"

Seemingly out of nowhere, Connie asks him: "You want a smoke or a drink? Believe me, you might _need_ it after what I'm about to tell you." Even more shocked than before, Steven replies: "What? Well I mean... I don't smoke or drink. You can if you want, though... I don't mind as long as you crack a window and turn on the fan."

Connie laughs again (Steven finds her laugh very pleasant despite the upsetting nature of the current conversation) and raises her eyebrows as she says, "Really? Aren't you twenty-seven?" Steven looks ever-so-slightly annoyed as he replies:

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean that I've _got_ to do stuff like drinking or smoking tobacco, you know? It was never really my thing. I mean, I do smoke weed sometimes though..." Connie finds that last part interesting; perhaps Steven isn't _quite_ as much of a straight-laced goody-two-shoes as he seems.

Connie shrugs, turning on the fan and cracking the window as she says: "Suit yourself, but I have a feeling that you might change your mind about drinking if I do solve your mother's case. And while I don't touch the stuff myself since I'm in law enforcement, I'm pretty sure that what I'm about to tell you will _definitely_ make you want to indulge in cannabis when you get home."

That seems very ominous, and Steven shivers once again even though his jacket keeps him plenty warm even with the window cracked open. Connie opens a desk drawer and pulls out a bottle of bourbon and a shot-glass, swiftly pouring herself a shot, downing it, wiping down the glass with a cloth, and putting the entire setup away all in what seems to be one fluid, _extremely well-practiced_ motion.

He half-expects her to ask for a cup of water from the dispenser, but she immediately reaches into the pocket of her trenchcoat and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. In yet another clearly well-practiced motion, she withdraws a cigarette, places it between her lips (her very full, very _sexy_ lips, Steven notices), lights it up, and puts away the pack and the lighter as she begins casually puffing away.

After a particularly long draw on her cigarette, she removes it from her lips and holds it between the fingers of her left hand as she drops a huge, life-changing bombshell on him as if it was the most casual thing in the world:

"I have no idea what she really did, but your mother certainly didn't work some ordinary job in sales at some paper company. Whoever her real employers were, they probably had some kind of government affiliation, as they did a very good job at covering her tracks and making her look like a normal person; such a good job that apparently even her own family has no idea what she really did."

Steven's eyes practically bug out of his head for a moment; Connie takes another long drag on her cigarette as he takes a few seconds to process and come to terms with what she just told him. After a pause, he responds:

"W... what the hell are you talking about? You're talking about this like my mom was, I dunno... some kind of secret-agent or something! That's crazy... but I mean... well... I guess that the idea that she went nuts and killed a Senator is also crazy. Detective Maheswaran, what makes you think that about my mom? What makes you think she would _lie_ to me and my dad?"

Connie stops puffing on her cigarette again and replies simply: "Because her particular position at the company where she supposedly worked _doesn't actually exist_. This isn't something that any ordinary person could figure out; as I said, her real employers did an incredibly good job at covering everything up. I only managed to figure this out by using tools that aren't available to the general public and methods that skirt the very edge of the law."

She takes another drag on her cigarette before continuing: "You mentioned crazy conspiracy theorists, right? Believe it or not, while most of the theories about your mother and Pink Diamond are definitely complete bullshit, there's a handful of folks out there who seem to actually be onto something, who have figured out the same thing that I have. Of course, they've also 'figured out' things that are nonsense, it's a mixed bag. But long story short, as far as I can tell the whole 'secret-agent' thing might not be so far off the mark."

With another drag on her cigarette as Steven finds himself psychologically reeling, Connie continues unabated: "As for why your mom would've lied to her family: Them's the breaks, Universe. It's a tough, crazy world that we live in, and there are some jobs out there where people just aren't _allowed_ to tell _anyone_ what they do, not even their families. The kinds of things that require the highest level of security clearance, certain jobs at places like the NSA, CIA, and positions way above my old paygrade at the FBI. Whatever your mom really did, it's likely that just knowing about it could've put you and your father in danger."

Connie pauses and allows Steven time to process this, continuing to casually puff on her cigarette during the meantime. After nearly half a minute, he replies: "Well that's... a really hard pill to swallow, I guess. You're _absolutely sure_ about this, that her job at the paper company wasn't real?" Connie nods in response.

"Damn," he says, "I guess... wow... my mom wasn't who I thought she was. She disappeared when I was barely four years old and died when I was only five, so it's not like I remember her as well as my dad does... but this is still _really_ tough to accept, Detective Maheswaran. My dad will wanna know about it... but it'll definitely upset him, probably a lot more than it even upsets me."

To Steven's surprise, a look of slight sympathy appears on Connie's otherwise deadpan or scowling face, and her response shows him that she does, in fact, have a heart after all. She _sighs_ after taking another drag on her cigarette, and then speaks:

"Look Universe... in this line of work, I've grown accustomed to telling folks that their loved ones aren't who they think they are. But I have to admit that your case is an _exceptional_ one, to say the least. _Most_ of the cases I've taken as a P.I., they're pretty run-of-the-mill stuff, cheating spouses and the like."

"Sure, I've gained some major cred in just a year and a half for solving a murder mystery that the cops considered a cold case and for busting a robbery ring. But your mom's case, it's on a whole other level entirely. We're talking about a case where a woman who wasn't what she seemed was, for some reason, framed for the assassination of a major political figure, an event that shook the entire nation and world. So I've gotta ask you an important question: Do you really wanna go ahead with this?"

Steven looks slightly uneasy and a bit confused as he replies: "What? Why wouldn't I want to go ahead with this, Detective Maheswaran? I'm here for both myself and for my dad, and all we want is the _truth_. I wanna get to the bottom of this no matter what! I obviously already knew about how you've solved some big cases that the normal cops couldn't, so I figure that maybe _you_ can crack this case... _can't_ you? Or do you not... not _want_ to?" He looks slightly crestfallen upon asking that final question.

Connie sighs again; her cigarette has burnt nearly all the way down, so she snuffs it out in the ashtray and quickly removes another from the pack in her pocket, lights it, and takes a quick drag before locking eyes with Steven and responding:

"Of course I wanna take the case, I told you that already; I've honestly spent years _wishing_ for a reason to investigate this case full-time. As for whether I _can_ solve the case, I'm _not sure_ ; as I said, this is a _huge_ case, and whatever the truth behind it is, there are probably some _very powerful_ people keeping it hidden. There's no way to know what kinda can of worms we might open by investigating your mother and Pink Diamond. That's why I'm asking if you're sure that you wanna go ahead with this."

She takes another drag on her cigarette, maintaining eye-contact with Steven as he responds while looking even more uneasy than before:

"P... powerful people? Can of worms? W-what do you mean, Detective Maheswaran? The way you're talking about things makes this whole thing sound really scary, like it might be _dangerous_..."

Connie could almost laugh at that; _"this poor man, he really is naive,"_ she thinks as she continues to smoke, _"he really has no inkling of the true nature of the heartless world in which we live, of the darkness hidden beneath the facade of a good and civilized world. I guess I'm gonna have to spell it out for him."_

She removes the cigarette from her lips and exhales, setting her elbows upon the desk and leaning forward while maintaining eye-contact with him as she replies:

"Yeah Universe, that's _precisely_ what I'm saying; this case is _scary as all hell_ , and investigating it might very well prove more dangerous than you can possibly imagine. Before I go into my further suspicions about the case, I'll explain to you why you might be better off just walking out that door over there and never looking back." Steven looks nervous and slightly fearful as she continues:

"Famous father aside, you live a nice, safe, and relatively normal life, Universe, one that's firmly grounded in the bright side of the world, the side that serves as a mask for the darkness of our society. You know I've looked into you already:"

"A piano player and lounge singer at a high-class bar in the nice part of the city. A musical prodigy with perfect pitch, you make some good indie rock music and run a semi-successful Youtube channel on the side; you're not nearly successful enough with either pursuit to make anything close to a living off of it, but you say in your videos that you're happy with it, more than content with your life."

"Your music is quite good, to be honest; I'm sure your albums would sell pretty well if you were willing to let your famous father promote you an sign you to his label, but you're a modest and humble man who'd rather not take advantage of any of your father's resources beyond his recording studio. Is all that about right?"

Steven blushes and bashfully rubs the back of his neck before nervously replying: "Y-yeah, I mean... that's me, it seems like you've got me pegged. Th-thanks for saying my music is good, by the way... I know that hardly anybody listens to it, and I know you only checked it out because you were looking into me as a client, but I appreciate the support."

Connie successfully suppresses a blush of her own as she continues smoking; there's no way she'll ever admit to him that she's actually been a fan of his for a few years now, that his music reminds her of a time in her life when she was more bright-eyed and idealistic herself. She has an image to maintain, after all: As far as anyone knows, the only music she regularly purchases and listens to is Blues and Jazz. Without giving any external indication of those thoughts, she continues in a solemn tone:

"And that's just the thing; you've got a nice, cushy, above-ground life. A nice career, some pleasant little side-jobs and hobbies. I'm guessing you've probably got some pretty good friends too, ones with nice jobs and lives themselves, and that you've probably dated nice, normal, above-ground people. Right?" Steven blushes slightly at the mention of dating and nods numbly in response to her question. Connie soldiers on:

"Then as I said, you'd probably be best off if you just walk out that door right now, _forget_ about your mother and Pink Diamond's case, forget about _me_ , and go on living your nice, happy, _pleasant_ life as if you never learned that your mother didn't really work for a paper company. Because if I investigate this case for you, we might end up involved in something deeper and darker than you could ever imagine, the kind of thing where you might have to give up that nice cushy life of yours and flee to a foreign country under a new identity if things go south."

"I _really want_ to finally investigate this case with my full time and resources, as it's the case I've been waiting my entire adult life for. But I can't in good conscience do so without informing you of the possible dangers. Do you think you can handle taking that kind of risk just for the sake of learning the truth? Would you give up your nice comfortable life, or even _die_ , to learn the truth about your mother?"

Steven _is_ genuinely scared now; he nervously swallows his spit as Connie continues to puff on her cigarette while leaning forward with her elbows on the desk. He looks deeply into her eyes and sees nothing but the complete sincerity of someone who is too cold and pragmatic to lie to him about this situation.

But in those gorgeous brown eyes he sees something else beyond cold pragmatism, something that most people would miss but that he, people-person that he is, can just barely pick up on: A deep-seated kindness and compassion that she tries her very best to hide from the world. Even though she desperately wants to take this case, she's trying to _protect_ him, to give him an out.

As Steven looks into Connie's eyes, Connie can't help but feel like he's staring into the depths of her soul with those handsome eyes of his; she correctly deduces that he's _onto_ her, that he can see right through her to the small (or at least _she_ thinks it's small) part of her that still hasn't been tainted by this harsh and cruel world. But she refuses to break eye-contact with him; to do so would be _weak_ , it would be _soft_.

Connie _refuses_ to be soft; she learned the hard way while far too young that in her line of work, the world chews up and spits out soft people oh-so-easily. Steven seems soft, and yet something about those eyes of his belies that softness, hinting at a core of steel beneath his soft exterior that may reveal itself if the chance arises. She once again is struck by how attractive she finds him. But she keeps calmly puffing on her cigarette as if his gaze isn't affecting her at all.

Seeing the honesty and the carefully-hidden kindness in Connie's eyes, Steven's mind drifts away from her and to the things she just told him. He breaks eye contact and looks down at his hands folded in his lap as he falls into deep thought, and his eyes glaze over and begin to tear up as he thinks back to his last memory of his mother, the very last words she spoke to him twenty-three years ago before suddenly disappearing and then turning up dead a bit over a year later. Steven was so young at the time that he wouldn't remember those words so well if his dad wasn't around to remind him when asked:

It was 8:15pm, and Rose was putting Steven to bed as Greg waited in the doorway. "Steven," she said, "you know that I love you with all of my heart, don't you?" As he laid down in bed, Steven nodded and said "Yeah mom, I love you too!" He giggled; this was silly, why was she _asking_ if he knew she loved him? Rose continued:

"Steven, I need you to know that you are my pride and joy, the greatest thing that I have ever done or brought into this world. No matter what happens, no matter what people might say, my love will _always_ be with you. You're a wonderful boy Steven, a true blessing, and someday you'll be a wonderful man. It may be harsh sometimes, but this world is a beautiful place, Steven; never let anyone convince you otherwise. I just know that someday, you will do great things in this beautiful world of ours."

Steven momentarily glanced over at his father in the doorway, who awkwardly but reassuringly smiled and shrugged; Greg and Steven knew that Rose sometimes got super-serious out of nowhere, she was weird like that. It was a cute quirk of hers that they loved. Steven looked back towards his mother; the young boy didn't quite understand everything she'd said, but he responded as best he could:

"You're great too mom, the best mom in the world. I love ya bunches! I'm tired, can ya tuck me in?" Rose looked like she was going to tear up for a moment, which was weird, but then she wiped her eyes and smiled her brilliant, gorgeous smile down at him.

She abruptly swept him into a brief hug before releasing him back onto the bed; still smiling, she tucked him into bed snugly as she said: "Of course Steven, goodnight. Sleep well. And once more, I love you." She stood up and walked over to join Greg in the doorway.

She briefly smiled back towards Steven with Greg, who said "Love ya Schtuball, see ya in the morning!" As they turned their backs and left while closing his door, Steven called out behind them, "Love ya mom and dad! Night!" He drifted off to sleep, but could've sworn he heard a hushed conversation through the door as he did. In the morning, Rose was _gone_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a big shout-out to CaptainJZH for helping me make sure my ideas fit well with the Detective Noir genre and even helping me come up with a certain plot element! I appreciate it, man.


End file.
